Pretty Face, Pretty Lies
by CruxAmethyst
Summary: Spencer Hastings couldn't forget the handsomer version of Holden Caulfield named Ezra who she ran into a bar. She hoped to see him again but that didn't mean in Rosewood Day as her AP English teacher, Mr. Fitz.
1. Chapter 1

Pretty Face, Pretty Lies

 **DISCLAMER: I DON'T OWN THE PLL SERIES AND THE SHOW. I HAVE NO CONNECTION WITH MS. SHEPARD OR THE WRITER OF THE TV VERSION.**

 **SO BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE, I'M GONNA WARN YOU (THE ONE READING THIS RIGHT NOW) THAT I'M GONNA BASE THIS ON THE BOOKS BECAUSE I HAVEN'T WATCH THE SHOW FOR REASONS, LIKE I'VE ONLY BEEN HOOK TO THE BOOKS JUST THREE MONTHS AGO AND I DON'T THINK I CAN CATCH UP WITH THE TV SHOW (MAN, IT'S ALREADY SEASON 5 OR 6…IT'S A LONG JOURNEY FOR ME.) BUT I THINK I CAN COMBINE THE BOOKS AND THE SHOW AS LONG AS I CAN.**

 **BY THE WAY, I'M KEEPING THE TV VERSION OF THE CHARACTERS WHEN IT COMES TO THEIR APPEARANCES BECAUSE I LOVE TROIAN VERY MUCH.**

 **THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU.**

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CHAPTER I: THE CATCHER IN THE BAR

Spencer Hastings never lose to anybody.

Except for two people she knew, one was her older sister, Melissa, who was more like an archrival than a sibling to her. There was always a silent competition between the two of them even they were like four years apart. And yeah, that rivalry would always involve their parents' attention and affection. As if their only purpose here on earth was to be the most behaved daughter-no room for two, only one. To cut the trip to the memory lane short, Melissa had and would always win in the eyes of the folks.

Spencer lost again for the umpteenth time. She stopped counting even before Ali had magically disappeared in the picture-perfect, catalogue-ready town of Rosewood. She sighed, the thought of Ali gone missing for three years was a pain in the heart. Ali was a close friend, too close to know Spencer and the others' secrets. Ali used their secrets against them, leaving them no choice but to follow her bidding. Maybe Ali being lost was a huge relief in her-their-part, if you were looking at the brighter side of the situation.

She would always be the second best to two manipulative people she had ever known: Mrs. Hastings' clone, Melissa and Rosewood's heart-shaped face, blue-eyed darling, Ali DiLaurentis. Spencer fought the urge to throw up. It happened before, when she saw a crumpled flyer of the lost thirteen-year-old Ali. The former was attainable than the latter. She didn't mean anything with that.

Back to the older sister dilemma, Melissa had won the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Hastings because she already graduated at University of Pennsylvania undergrad a year early and would enter Penn's Wharton School of Business. The Hastingses, decided to celebrate in Moshulu and Spencer left the said restaurant after half an hour. Spencer didn't need to be reminded of being the imperfect daughter. Maybe Spencer could use a booze to forget for a while that she wasn't what everybody wanted.

Spencer wasn't expecting to stop by the bar in Hollis' main street, Snookers. But then, she needed a drink or two and she couldn't do that at home even there was a collection of liquor displayed in the kitchen and a few in the basement. So Spencer would enter that hideous-looking bar if she really wanted to get wasted without the prying eyes of Rosewood Day's students. She didn't need a gossip column in the school's newspaper dedicated to an overachiever who chose to drink in an awful-smelled bar. She didn't need another reason for her parents to neglect her more because they were the kind of family who didn't tolerate minor drinking except when there was an occasion yet subtle drinks were only allowed.

Obviously, there was an occasion for them to drink. Maybe what Spencer really wanted was to be away from her family. She couldn't phone Andrew though because it could be worse than the last time.

Spencer wasn't surprise to see Aria Montgomery and her younger brother, Mike, inside the bar. Spencer believed that Aria changed a lot after returning from Iceland even though what Aria was doing still looked very Aria-ish. When Spencer, Aria and the others were still friends back to the summer of seventh grade (they weren't now), Aria was always the brave one to break the stereotype. Spencer smiled at herself, she kind of wished that someday she could be like that. She might not admit it to someone but she hated how Rosewood was transforming every single one of them into their lackadaisical-yet-party-throwing parents.

It was already half an hour when Aria noticed Spencer sitting five stools away from them. Spencer gave her a tight-lipped smile and a wave to be polite. Her former bestfriend returned the gesture by raising her drink, a small smile visible to her pink lips. Spencer sighed, wondering how the four of them became constant strangers after Ali's disappearance. She thought it had something to do with their memories together with Ali who randomly picked them as her new cliques.

Another half an hour had passed when the Montgomerys decided to leave the area. Spencer muttered a curse, blaming the awkwardness surrounding the two of them. She really wanted to talk again to Aria. She hadn't spoken to all of them since the disappearance, well except for Emily Fields, and she really wanted to have her friends back. But once upon a time Spencer Hastings didn't really want to talk to any of them because it was painful, if she wasn't stubborn to admit that.

She found herself getting bored. Her gaze glanced from the drink she was nursing to other people inside the bar. They all looked…older than her, old enough to be her mom and dad. It bothered her for a sec. She should have called Andrew instead. Would Andrew come and pick her up here if she asked him to?

"One scotch again, please." Spencer asked the bartender, in which the latter granted with a smile on his face. She thought the bartender-Julio-was the only thing who seemed happy to be in that rotting place.

"Are you 21?" a man's voice distracted. She couldn't make out his scent at first; he smelled like wood and raindrops combined into one. Spencer could see in her peripheral vision that the man sat in the vacant stool on her left. He was tidy and not old enough to be her dad. She swore she didn't notice him minutes ago. "Because you don't look like it?"

Spencer was surprised that someone noticed that she was barely 18. No one seemed to question her age when she entered the place. Most people used to tell her that her maturity was also seen in her physical appearance. She raised an eyebrow, facing the stranger. "I'm 23 actually." She lied, eyeing the guy from head to toe.

He was wearing an atrocious vest but he did have gorgeous eyes. Her heart thudded. Her stomach lurched suddenly. She could feel her blood rising to her cheeks. She didn't feel it before, even with Wren. Wait, who was Wren again?

Oh, Melissa's boyfriend who she brought with her in Moshulu hours ago. Spencer had a tiny crush on him for being so different to her aggravating sister's predictable boyfriend types. Now Spencer didn't care about British accent Wren because all she could see was handsomer Holden Caulfield.

Handsomer Holden Caulfield. She had no idea why she compared him to a J.D. Salinger character. Maybe it was the fact that she imagined the main character differently from the book, not reading into the description of his physical attributes stated by Salinger himself.

"My bad, thought you're on your 20," H.C. said, drinking the glass of scotch in his hand. "I'm Ezra, if you're creep out that a stranger's talking to you." H.C.-now, Ezra-shrugged and then brushed his long fingers in his short, dark brown locks, as if he was in a cliché 90's romcom movie, charming the hell out of every girl in the campus.

She was deciding if she would respond or not.

 _The hell with it._ "Name's Spencer." She stopped herself from saying Jill instead, which wasn't a lie because it was her second name.

Ezra laughed playfully, not insulting. His eyes closed when he laughed. "Guess, they sometimes mistaken you for a boy." It made him look younger than he already was. She guessed he was a few years her senior.

She began to ponder what would Melissa or Ali think of her Bar Comrade.

"There was one time," answered Spencer, admiring Ezra's calm and icy at the same time, blue eyes in a subtle way. "No, I mean, two." She shrugged nonchalantly, as if they had known each other for ages.

"Don't worry, they had mistaken me for a girl once, too. I had a longer, dark hair before, you know, 90s kids." Ezra said, leaning against the counter. "They could have given me a free ride if they didn't find out the next five minutes."

Spencer let herself stifle a laugh. "Poor you." She slightly turned to face him, not to be obviously gawking at the hot and definitely older man. She wondered what he had under that monotonous vest. "Your face kinda look familiar." She lied, trying to expand the conversation because she was afraid that there would only be silence after the boy-girl name thing.

"Really? You know what, I thought I saw you in one of my dreams," the older guy responded and drank again from his glass, not entirely looking at her. It was an old-fashioned comeback but she lost her mind anyway.

Spencer flinched. She was sure that he was hitting on her and she was blushing extremely, wishing the earth would just swallow her. _Thank God, it's dark in here._

She could feel her neck sweating but remain to sit up straight, hiding the fact that her legs were starting to feel wobbly. "Europe, maybe?" Spencer half-lied, arching an eyebrow. Their family loved to travel in different countries and she was so sure that there was only 4 or 5 countries left in the Hastingses' Europe checklist.

"You've been to Europe?" He asked with gleam in his eyes like a boy finding his dream toy car underneath the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. It was an adorable sight and Spencer tried to contain her fits of laughter but failed. "What?"

"Nothing." He raised his eyebrow at that. Maybe continuing to laugh wasn't helping her to get away with it.

"No seriously, what is it?" He was very persistent and it made her smile more. "There's something."

"Oh, don't mind me. I just remembered something." She wasn't having a déjà vu, a year from now maybe. She smiled and wished he wasn't reading her mind because she would die from embarrassment if he found out that she was thinking a year from now. She could imagine them walking to the Metropolitan Art Museum in New York (she had a feeling that he's into that stuff), holding hands, and then he would look at her and she would look back with the same intensity. ("Remember when we first met?" Ezra would ask, his fingers grazing her knuckles. Spencer would nod, a tiny smile on her lips, "Are you 21?" Then they would laugh until the people around them gave them hard stares.)

Then, she remembered she wasn't really 23 years old.

"Um, Spencer?" It was Ezra's voice. Oh, she mouthed. Maybe she was daydreaming too hard and forgot that he was still in front of her. "What are you thinking?"

"You." _Shut up! Spencer Jill Hastings. You didn't say that!_ "Did I just say that?"

"Huh," There was a smug look on his face but she wasn't pissed at him for that. He looked even handsomer, to be honest. "I believe that you had just said that."

"I mean, what about you? What are you thinking?" She asked in a fake inebriated tone, pinching the bridge of her nose as if it would distract her from the unknown sensation creeping down her back. She was an actress (in her Rosewood Day's stage plays) and she knew she wasn't being convincing this time. Her gaze flicked from Ezra to the bar's residents and back to Ezra.

"Would I scare you off if I said that I was thinking about you, too?" He was definitely hitting on her. She giggled and sucked in her stomach when she felt his left hand on hers. It was cold and it didn't bother her even a bit. She could feel him moving his chair closer to hers.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're pretty fast there, Mr. Ezra."

He shrugged then chugged down his drink. "Heard that a lot in high school."

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 **HOPE YOU ENJOY IT. THIS IS AN AU SO I'M NOT GONNA STAY THAT FAITHFUL TO THE BOOKS, I'LL ADD MY IDEAS. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COMMENT. I DON'T HAVE A PROOFREADER FOR THIS SO SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES. THANK YOU FOR READING :)**

 **I KNOW THAT THEY'RE NOT A PAIRING BUT I STARTED TO SHIP THEM WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY WATCHED A FANMADE VIDEO OF SPEZRA. I RESPECT ALL OF THE SHIPS IN THIS FANDOM PLEASE NO HATING. THANK YOU.**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAMER: I DON'T OWN THE PLL SERIES AND THE SHOW. I HAVE NO CONNECTION WITH MS. SHEPARD OR THE WRITER OF THE TV VERSION.**

 **BY THE WAY, I'M KEEPING THE TV VERSION OF THE CHARACTERS WHEN IT COMES TO THEIR APPEARANCES BECAUSE I LOVE TROIAN VERY MUCH.**

 **THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU.**

 **TO BE HONEST, I DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THIS STORY WILL GO BUT THANK YOU FOR YOUR COMMENTS AND TRUST. I'LL BE FOREVER GRATEFUL TO HAVE READERS LIKE YOU. YOU DON'T KNOW HOW HAPPY I AM AFTER READING THEM (NOW I'M GETTING NERVOUS FOR EVERY THING I TYPE.)**

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CHAPTER II: IS THIS THE DESTINY OF MAN?

If someone told him that morning that he would have the guts to talk to a very amazing girl, he would laugh raucously, which wasn't really him to be honest. Where did Ezra Fitz(gerald) get that kind of courage? And yes, he was an expressive human being; he let his emotion get to him, but it didn't help him with the ladies. He did have a girlfriend before. A girlfriend since, he guessed, forever (read: junior high). They had broken up one year, eleven months and thirteen days ago and he promised not to date for like four years.

Maggie was the first girl he had fallen for. She was a photographer in their high school's newspaper while he was the editor-in-chief, a position he earned on his first year in high school. At first, they weren't close and often disagreed with each other's decision. But everything changed when Maggie asked him to the Sally Hawkins dance in their junior year. After that, people around them started to notice the beginning of something, teasing them that they would look cute together.

With the help of his friends, Ezra admitted that he was starting to have feelings for her and the rest was history. It was like that cliché teen movie and for the first time, Ezra didn't mind it at all.

It wasn't like he still had feelings for Maggie up to now. It was insane how people thought he couldn't get over a previous relationship. Was he supposed to mope around and to grief his failed first relationship for the rest of his life?

In all honesty, he really thought Maggie was the greatest love of his life (she was his first everything and he was her first everything, vice versa.) So when they had broken up (she broke up with him over the telephone. DARN YOU PHONE, WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU THESE MODERN DAYS?), he was devastated. His heart shattered into pieces (he already forgave and felt nothing but platonic love for Mags right now.) Ezra just felt the need to mend what had broken before he falls again. That would be unfair to someone if his heart was still missing a few pieces so he decided to take his time, enjoy what life threw him along the way.

Then, this girl came into Snookers and he felt that he should reconsider his decision. Spencer. He liked her name and it felt like it was his first time to hear it. (He had met three Spencers in his high school days: Spencer Donovan in Spanish, Spencer Frank in Astronomy, and Spencer Bentley in Chemistry. They were all guys.) She was an enigma to him. The first time he set his eyes on her, he could see how guarded and unguarded she was at the same time, if that made sense.

She had an almond-shaped eyes and long, dark brown hair, he noticed.

He didn't know how he got there in the bar counter, getting to sit on the vacant stool on her left. He was supposed to be nervous (For Goethe's sake, he was single for exactly one year, eleven months and thirteen days) but surprised that he wasn't. He was convinced; a miracle was currently happening. All parts of him were functioning to make this work without him being aware of it, if that even made sense, too.

 _I thought I saw you in one of my dreams? Pretty lame, Ezra, pretty lame._

Spencer. And in the back of his head, while they were talking for like an hour or two, all he could think was to write a poem about her. He would compose it in front of her if only he could find the words to describe the effect she had on him. He was being (unthinkingly) honest when he admitted that he was thinking of her. He was being foolish again when he reached for her hand; he was fully aware that his was a bit cold. Her hand was warm and it felt damn good.

Was it too early to say that he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life looking at this girl?

If it wasn't, he would dare say he didn't mind spending the rest of his life looking at her.

"You're pretty fast there, Mr. Ezra." She said mischievously, tilting her head slightly to her right. A smile began to form in her pale lips. She looked younger than 23, he thought.

He didn't know what got into him that he shoved the rest of his drink down his throat. He never quite finished a booze before. Maybe it was his cringe-worthy attempt to look cool. "Heard that a lot in high school." He was being one-hundred percent sarcastic and he wondered if she knew all along.

He thought she would just stare blankly at him after he said that. But she still had that smile on her lips that he was starting to realize how much he loved staring. Then, she looked from a different direction and her hand slipped away slowly from him. He grunted to himself. He failed himself and he was failing her, too.

"Do you want to kiss me?" She said, out of the blue. She sat up straight and looked again at him directly into his eyes. He also wondered if she knew how beautiful her orbs were. They were a little darker now though.

"W-what?" He faltered, wishing he hadn't finished his drink at all. He tried to look away but couldn't as if his eyes were being held tight by Spencer's. Kiss her? Well, they hardly knew each other. They were basically two strangers having an extended chat about things outside their personal information except first names and age (well, her age.)

"I caught you staring at my lips for like four times now." There was something in her voice, a challenging tone. Was she secretly telling him to man up and kiss her?

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He swallowed after that, praying he wasn't acting stupidly. He noticed the smirk he grew fond of from her lips. He moved closer again, assuming it was what she wanted him to do. He wanted to kiss her though so it wasn't a struggle to him at all.

"You seem nervous," Spencer chuckled, drinking the rest of her drink. She wiped her lips with a yellow handkerchief he didn't notice she had with her. "You know, I don't want to end this day with regret." Her voice was hoarse and it did send shiver down his spine.

Before Ezra realized what would happen next, he could feel her warm fingers on the back of his neck and their lips clashed into something he never wanted to end.

* * *

 **THANK YOU FOR READING** **SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES (I DON'T HAVE A PROOFREADER FOR THIS.) THANK YOU FOR THE COMMENTS AND FOLLOWS AND FAVE. I HOPE YOU ALL KNOW THAT I REALLY APPRECIATE THEM AND I ALSO WISH THAT I'M DOING THIS RIGHT EVEN THOUGH I REALLY DON'T KNOW HOW THIS STORY WILL GO. THANK THANK THANK YOU VERY MUCH :)**

 **I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO POST THIS COMING MONDAY BUT I JUST FOUND OUT THAT THE CATCHER IN THE RYE'S PUBLICATION DATE WAS JULY 16, 1951. SO YEAH.**

 **FEEL FREE TO COMMENT! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU.**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAMER: I DON'T OWN THE PLL SERIES AND THE SHOW. I HAVE NO CONNECTION WITH MS. SHEPARD OR THE WRITER OF THE TV VERSION.**

 **SO BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE, I'M GONNA WARN YOU (THE ONE READING THIS RIGHT NOW) THAT I'M GONNA BASED THIS ON THE BOOKS AND YES, I HAVEN'T WATCH IT YET EVEN MONTHS HAD PASSED. I'LL COMBINED THE TV AND THE BOOKS AS LONG AS I CAN. AND ONE MORE THING, I'M NOT GONNA FOLLOW THE TIMELINE SOMETIMES.**

 **I'M SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T POST FOR A LONG TIME. WRITER'S BLOCK, I GUESS. AND SCHOOL, ALWAYS SCHOOL.**

 **BY THE WAY, I'M KEEPING THE TV VERSION OF THE CHARACTERS WHEN IT COMES TO THEIR APPEARANCES BECAUSE I LOVE TROIAN VERY MUCH.**

 **THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU.**

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CHAPTER III: MORE THICKER THAN FORGET, MORE THINNER THAN RECALL

A lot of things happened that week - which involved Spencer kissing Melissa's boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, to be exact.

What Melissa didn't know was, Spencer didn't kiss Wren back. Well, when did Melissa ever listen to her? Yeah, Wren was the one who initiated it and Spencer had just realized that his lips were on hers after that 'falling with the wrong sister' line. And yeah, for the second time, he was a little buzzed, too. It -the kiss- tasted like soda vodka.

And the weird thing was, she felt something, and she was so sure she didn't develop feelings for him afterwards. Sure, she was attracted to him the first time she saw him in Moshulu, like every single time she's introduce with a new, better-than-the-last boyfriend by Melissa; but she came with the conclusion a day or two that maybe she had liked him the first time because that's what she does best. What Melissa said the one thing Spencer's good at: coveting.

It wasn't like Melissa knew about the Ian Thomas thing. Thank god, she didn't have to know. Ali was the one trying to keep that secret, and she was nowhere to be found. It made Spencer think that maybe she had something to do with the latter's disappearance. She brushed the idea; it was ridiculous, way too ridiculous.

Back to Wren, Spencer actually felt sorry for him and she shouldn't have but she did anyway. Then sorry for herself, mostly. The family started to treat her coldly, back to the days where she felt she wasn't part of the family, the morning after the 'crime' and all Spencer wanted to do was cry after they all leave the house to get away from her. It made her feel like she was some incurable disease waiting to happen. It made her feel like a child being left alone on Christmas Eve at the house with cold and a broken heart.

Instead of December, it was in last part of summer vacation and it was the worst feeling.

Never mind that she was grounded over something she couldn't remember. Nobody cared to explain her why she ended up crashing a distant cousin's Mercedes to a pine tree. She couldn't remember anything from the party after the fire performer accidentally put somebody's eight-layered cake on fire and everything went black.

Never mind that she only got the chance to talk to her old BFFs when they were in a bar drinking with their brothers, when they were infront of their lockers and kissing their jerk boyfriends or when they were in the mall shoplifting with their new bestfriends.

Never mind that she was supposed to hate Wren in taking the barn from her with Melissa when she was promised to keep it by the 'rents for her junior year. And that maybe she actually did lead him on because of allowing him to take care of her. She should've known that one-time massage session in the Jacuzzi was a bad idea and the other day before when she told him she liked him.

Never mind that her life fell apart after Ali had gone, maybe ran away like she had always dreamt of, and Spencer thought everything would be slightly better if Ali had gone her way out of Rosewood. Ali succeed on escaping, but not in leaving traces of her perfect face. Everywhere and everywhen, Spencer could still see the Rosewood angel when she turned her eyes around the town, tormenting her.

Never mind that a part of her was justifying what she did. What everybody but her thought she did. A comeback for all the pain caused by Melissa. That it would be even for them. Melissa taking all of their parents' affection and Spencer kissing her sister's boyfriends.

But she didn't kiss him this time, she was taken by surprise, unlike the others. She didn't want to kiss him and being kissed by him made her feel guilty, unlike the others, too. She felt something. She felt guilty in 'doing it' behind Melissa's back but not entirely because of her. It was something else, too - and more like, it was because of someone else either.

Oh God, she forgot about _him_. Her Bar Comrade whose lips were like soft pillows soaked in scotch. She wasn't drunk enough to forget about that and she hoped the description didn't make her sound bizarro. She forgot about Ezra, the guy she met one time in a bar and it seemed like he was the only one who made the whole bar thing experience attainable, with the exception of the nice bartender who didn't bat an eyelid at them when they were practically making out (which composed of kissing and a lot of kissing, excuse you) near the counter.

Because when Wren stopped kissing her, she could practically hear Ezra's voice through her mind in a few seconds, as if they were having a telepathic conversation and she didn't answer back. What would she say anyway if that was possible? _Hey, you still kiss better even you're hesitant at first._

He didn't call three days after they met, and it was almost two weeks now. Maybe he wasn't that interested. Maybe she bore him. Maybe he sensed that she wasn't what he think she was, broken not like the other girls her age. 23 years old, ha, she thought to herself.

Maybe he found out she was barely a high school graduate, avoiding the possibility of being stuck with an emotional teenager who presented herself as an independent woman. How pathetic of her.

But even with all the possibilities in her head, she found herself fumbling for her Sidekick, giving that phone call another three days.

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 **THANK YOU FOR READING AND SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES (I STILL DON'T HAVE A PROOFREADER FOR THIS.) THANKS FOR THE COMMENTS AND FAVES, FOLLOWS. COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME. SORRY AGAIN FOR THE LATE, LATE POST. HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SHORT UPDATE.**

 **I STILL HAVEN'T WATCH THE SHOW BUT AS SOON AS MY DAD GIVE ME MY DELAYED GIFT, I'LL WATCH. BUT I'VE HEARD THERE'S SOME CHANGES IN SEASON 6, LIKE IN THE PAIRINGS. THAT'S WHAT I'VE HEARD.**

 **SO THANKS AGAIN FOR STAYING AND I'M TRULY SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE.**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE PLL SERIES AND THE SHOW. I HAVE NO CONNECTION WITH MS. SHEPARD OR THE WRITER OF THE TV VERSION.**

 **SO BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE, I'M GONNA WARN YOU (THE ONE READING THIS RIGHT NOW) THAT I'M GONNA BASED THIS ON THE BOOKS AND YES, I HAVEN'T WATCH IT YET EVEN MONTHS HAD PASSED. I'LL COMBINED THE TV AND THE BOOKS AS LONG AS I CAN. AND ONE MORE THING, I'M NOT GONNA FOLLOW THE TIMELINE SOMETIMES.**

 **I'M SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T POST FOR A LONG TIME. WRITER'S BLOCK, I GUESS. AND SCHOOL, ALWAYS SCHOOL.**

 **BY THE WAY, I'M KEEPING THE TV VERSION OF THE CHARACTERS WHEN IT COMES TO THEIR APPEARANCES BECAUSE I LOVE TROIAN VERY MUCH.**

 **THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU.**

* * *

CHAPTER IV: STILL SHE HAUNTS ME, PHANTOMWISE

Ezra lost the effing napkin.

The cinnamon-scented napkin, which Spencer found on her expensive-looking handbag, with her number sprawled on it. Her beautiful writing that made Ezra's heart swell in a good way and his mind think she was just doing it for charity. Making an old man happy before breaking the bad news that she's not interested for another tete-a-tete. Giving false hope, that's it.

He looked back to the day (or night? It was dark inside the pub and he was overjoyed by the moment to see if it was...never mind) and he couldn't even contain his smile when he was supposed to be upset because he threw away the only chance he got to talk to her again. To see her in a better lighting, to finally compose that poem and to kiss her soft lips again if he's braver and less awkward than the last time. Maybe if he hadn't wait for three days to pass, he wouldn't blow it all off.

But he did, and thanks for listening to your said best friend who blamed you for listening to him about waiting for three days before calling a potential 'soulmate' (Enzo's words, technically his girlfriend's, from the other side of the world calling long distance at that moment). If only he could go back in time, he would make sure to kick Enzo's arse out of his apartment the night he met Spencer. And he wouldn't feel any guilt on his bones at all. Not at all, Lorenzo, even Gayle begs him not to.

He should've saved her number on his phone though, the moment she turned her back at him. Maybe it looked desperate or something, but hey, at least he wouldn't be slamming his head on walls every time he remembers his mistake. Or writing, more like scribbling, pointless plots for pointless novels he had in mind. And the head banging continued through the next week. It wasn't a healthy hobby, really.

It only stopped when he remembered that this coming Monday would be his first day on teaching at Rosewood High. A job he was paid in advance for three months. Perfect. A good way to start a professional gig: have a noticeable bump on the forehead and calling students' attention in an embarrassing way. First day impressions last, hooray.

Cheers to that and to other things that involves losing an awesome girl's phone number that you might not see again and would hate you for not calling (or not.) Another hooray. Maybe it's a sign from the universe that they- Spencer and him- are better not to be together. It always had something to do with signs, destiny, whatsoever. And maybe it had something to do with him being not what his mother thought he was supposed to be.

"First day jitters?" A brunette teacher suddenly appeared next to him, which made Ezra jumped a little. If the older woman saw it, she didn't mind and continued pouring coffee on her cup. She was wearing a blouse with flower designs, reminding Ezra of someone from home. Home, a long story he wanted to push down to the bottom of the iceberg.

"Huh?" He pretended not to hear clearly and prayed that he wasn't talking by himself before she appeared on his left. One time, Wesley complained about him talking to himself loudly as if he was talking to someone that couldn't be seen by others.

"It's okay, young man." The brunette (whom he later found out was the Spanish teacher, Señora Davidtz) smiled and patted him on the shoulder and marched out of the teachers' lounge, leaving him all by himself again. "Have a nice day!" He could hear her from the outside. He didn't get the chance to say it back.

"Thanks." He winced from drinking his own cup of coffee before heading to his first class. It had been weeks since he had a black coffee.

 _Have a nice day, Ezra, have a nice day._ He repeated the same line as he walked through the building where his designated room was. He shouldn't be nervous; it was his second teaching job, he should get used to it. But something inside his mind was telling him that it had nothing to do with what he thought it was about. _Something darker_ , he brushed the thought quickly as he could feel his stomach doing back flips. He was being ridiculous.

"Here it is."

"Mr. Bane's out, heard there's a new English teacher and Hanna says he's hot." Three girls were giggling before him and entered a room- his classroom. Their previous chit chat made him slightly uncomfortable and decided to stand outside for a few seconds before entering the class. It was his first time to be considered hot, or maybe they have mistaken another new teacher for him.

He soon followed, only to find himself more uncomfortable than ever. Uncomfortable wasn't the right word he had in mind.

There she was.

Spencer.

 _Shit._

She was sitting in the front row, near the glass window wearing all white (or is it cream?), with an exception for her brown boots. She was busy rummaging through her handbag, trading her orange one from the day they met for a dark brown bag that complement her eyes. He knew she was unaware of his presence because who would have anticipated having the guy you lip locked with to be your literature teacher. She still looked like she did that day (night?), but now, untouchable, unlike the first time their paths crossed.

 _Oh God._

The class was noisy, not paying attention to him at all because he hadn't speak yet. He couldn't find his voice while looking at someone who plagued his dreams for two weeks, who turned out to be a high school student. His heart skipped a beat or two. He didn't see it coming.

 _Lorenzo, wake me up._

But he knew to himself that it wasn't a dream. It was real this time. "Good Morning," he addressed the whole class, silencing everyone and at the same time, surreptitiously waiting for her eyes to meet his. She didn't fail him, because the moment he paused, she finally looked on his direction with the same look he had earlier. Eyes wide open, then frowned. "I'm Ezra Fitz, your English teacher everyone."

What a nice day, indeed.

* * *

 **THANKS FOR READING AND I'M SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES (I STILL DON'T HAVE A PROOFREADER FOR THIS.) THANKS FOR THE FOLLOWS, FAVES AND COMMENTS. YOUR COMMENTS INSPIRE ME TO WRITE MORE, EVEN TO BE HONEST, I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS WILL GO.**

 **THANKS AGAIN. COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME. I'LL UPDATE AS LONG AS I CAN.**


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